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Aleksandr "Pestilence" Ivanov

Humans are like bees in that they are easily manipulated once you're among them.

0 · 379 views · located in Realm of Humanity || Apocalypse

a character in “Apocalypse Rising”, as played by Fabricator

Description







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Neither their screams, their pleas or their prayers stopped my advance. We would topple their thrones and peel the flesh from their bones while my siblings devoured what remained.
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| Full name |
"People forget what starts their suffering; they only remember the pain."
Pestilence, The White Rider.

| Alias |
"All of us wear masks, be it by our choice or another’s."
Aleksandr Prokhor Ivanov

| Incarnation Age |
"Age is simply a number for those who have walked a thousand lifetimes."
Late 40’s

| Incarnation Gender |
"Man fears himself more than any other, even if does not admit it."
Male

| Incarnation Appearance |
”It’s hard to hide your true self no matter how tightly you wrap yourself in illusion"
Despite his true nature his incarnation seems to be an almost perfect specimen of good health, and while he does have rather bright piercing eyes which seem to draw people in similarly to a black hole. He favours dressing in crisp white suits whenever possible and keeps his hair slicked back.

| Apocalypse Appearance |
"Once I rode to conquer the world, now I wait to watch it rot away into nothingness."
When in his true appearance his face is permanently hidden by a beaked mask similarly to the traditional plague doctor, with a dark hood pulled up to hide the rest of his features leaving at best patches of rotting flesh that can just be glimpsed. The rest of his body is wrapped in decaying armour or leathers and furs which have a palatable stench of rotting flesh about them which spreads out to infect those around him. He carries a warped and blackened oaken bow and an ethereal quiver containing his selection of poisons, plagues and contagions hangs where his old one did before he melted it down eons before.
While he tends not to wear it often as it reminds him of better times he does also sometimes wear his golden crown.

| Distinguishing marks |
"Quote"



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| Attitude |
"Quote"
While he does seem rather reserved when compared with War and Famine he’s still a little more boisterous than Death, even though he does tend to be quiet for the most part.

| Stability |
"How do you define stable? And if it is just endurance then I ask you, for how long?"
While the others seem to have found a mood which suits them Pestilence has always had trouble finding that perfect balance and is best described as being mercurial in nature. He has moments where he can be as cold and calm as death or a possessed and manic as Famine but rarely stays at either end for long, with his overall state usually settling as a rather amused calm with a glint in his eyes that flickers from dead to unnerving as he threatens to explode with energy.




| Signature Powers |
"If you do something that fills people with fear you will never be forgotten."
Almost without equal in archery he is capable of making almost impossible shots to spread his deadly poisons to his victims. He is also able to weave and spread all many of decay and corruption that can sap strength of mind, body and even soul within moments; and can even reverse such effects almost as easily since it all boils down to the same design with simply the application that differs. As such he has always had a rivalry with War over who is better even if she tends to favour wading in to melee.

| Weapons |
"They say a man is only as good as his tools, depends on the man."
His primary weapon of choice varies depending on his needs and form but he does carry a custom sniper rifle as well that he often keeps hidden and dismantled with the only part of it on display being the scope he keeps on his office desk. The scope itself was forged from the metal of his quiver when he used more archaic methods a very long time ago. Though he does still use arrows in his true form he simply materialises them as needed to nock and fire deadly contagions. While War may be the best in a fight his aim is usually better since he wounds first so they can suffer.

| Armour |
"The best protection you can have is to not be seen."
His armour is well worn Leather and tarnished but functional chainmail with a hood and a beaked mask to cover his features.

| Anything Else |
"In order to corrupt you must control and to conquer you must be merciless. "
While humanity has certainly advanced to the point where many of his tools have become lessened, manageable or even eradicated completely his influence has in no way waned. In fact his influence has spread throughout the medical world to the point that almost all cures for ailments have him to thank in one way or another throughout the years. While this would seem to be counterproductive the world itself is teetering on the brink of collapse most of the time so he is able to watch his creations wreak havoc unchained while he watched others eagerly devour contained morsels of them without him having to lift a finger. Well contained for as long as it takes to infect the world that is.
In addition to this he can often be found bare-chested wearing a golden crown of leaves and participating in underground fights of one description or another. He does share a rivalry with War, usually challenging her to contests that are either won outright by her more often than not or mostly end in a hard won draw.

| Addictions |
"It's only an indulgence unless you lose control"

While it rarely has much effect on him he has developed a taste for alcohol in almost all its forms, partly due to his intrigue by its corruption of mortal flesh.



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Faceclaim: Mads Mikkelsen Creator: Fabricator Hexcode: #006300

So begins...

Aleksandr "Pestilence" Ivanov's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Death AKA: Anthony Scomparsa Character Portrait: Scarlet -War-Blais Character Portrait: Ellie " Solas" Scomparsa Character Portrait: Aleksandr "Pestilence" Ivanov
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The room was surprisingly well lit for what it was, even if only at its centre but since that was where the entertainment for the unknown number of spectators who roared their approval from the shadows were it didn’t matter much. Two figures traded blows with one another but it seemed to be an ill-fated fight for one of them as his blows were being turned aside with seeming ease and answering hits causing him to stagger, a final strike to his throat causing him to splutter and fall to the dirt coughing blood before either passing out dying. For the spectators it mattered little which since they’d either won or lost their bets which was all that mattered.

The victor stood in stark contrast to his fallen opponent as well as the majority of their audience given his pale skin compared with their darker tones. However it was the crown he wore which made him memorable, even if none there could properly agree to any coherent description of him agreement beyond his crown or the colour of his skin.

Almost as soon as his the loser’s body had landed face down the crowd had erupted in madness as they fought among each other to claim their baubles from the various figures who’d been managing the bets placed. In the midst of this chaos the pale figure had simply turned on his heels and walked away; slipping between the packed spectators as if they weren’t even there. And then, neither was he.


At the other side of the world a door opened into an office ringed with glass that stared out high above the sprawling city below; it was a room in which nothing could live and not even dust would survive here for long. He wouldn’t stand for even the merest blemish to exist. He now wore his suit and was straightening his tie as the door opened to reveal his personal assistant Clara, who despite her title was the public face of his organisation since it was very rare for him to do much in the way of actually running his empire. His role was more in ensuring that his ‘cures’ were partaken of by as much of the world as possible. Nodding to her he went and sat in his chair, leaning back and smiling warmly at the girl as she ticked off a list of recent events for his perusal.

A curious creature she was, as much as partner in crime for him as any for the many millennia they had worked together but her continued existence was more due to her adaptability than anything else. While he held a great distrust of the demons and other servants of the Morningstar and his kin who constantly tried to gain entry into the world of man, young Clara was something a little different. Born as one of the Lilin she had an ancestry almost as sacred as that of Morningstar and just as sordid, and the conflict of natures amused Pestilence greatly as had her resilience to his infectious nature when first they had met that her siblings had not shared much to their sorrow. And so he had kept the outcast as his servant. The sound of wings disrupted their discussions as a single raven perched itself upon the oaken desk and elicited a sigh from Pestilence and caused Clara to shake her head as he waved her away.


“Gods ain't gonna help ya gal, You'll be sorry for whatcha done”

The dry voice was rather quiet coming from the other end of Death’s chamber, almost like a whisper of air escaping from a tomb. Pestilence smiled a mirthless grin towards the Daemon as he lounged in a leather chair and continued his soft lament.

“They ain't gonna catch you when you fall, You'll be pleadin' while you're bleedin'”

His eyes were narrowed towards his sibling’s daughter, as he itched to riddle her body with every contagion known and many not but stayed his hand since she had some apparent value. Even so he distrusted her presence and would have rather handed her to war and had done with it. To help ease his tension he closed his eyes for a heartbeat as several hundred starving children rasped; their lungs filled with bile.

“Gathered again at last… ah, waiting on Famine as usual I see. How times have not changed. Still keeping your mongrel around I see.”

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Death AKA: Anthony Scomparsa Character Portrait: Scarlet -War-Blais Character Portrait: Ellie " Solas" Scomparsa Character Portrait: Aleksandr "Pestilence" Ivanov
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Death didn't look up when Pestilence entered his office. He had sensed his presence as soon as he had set foot near the building. "Of course I keep the mongrel around, she is, after all, our sibling." He knew he was referring to the little Daemon masquerading as his daughter, but there was just something left in him that couldn't resist making that jab. And besides, the little Daemon was useful, compared to others. "And you're right, times have not changed. You still persist to insist on speaking in gibberish," he punctuated the statement with a jab of his pen into a well of ink.

He sighed when the paperwork for the starving children came in. Sometimes he didn't believe that Pestilence truly understood what their aim was in this existence. Their job was to maintain balance, keep the worlds separate, and to keep the natural or unnatural order of things. Yet Pestilence seemed to continuously revel in the handiwork of his contagions. Much like War seemed to revel in the slaughter of a fight. He signed off on the paperwork and dropped it in a bin, the papers being swallowed by shadow. These he had sent for reassignment. As cold as Death was, Children still deserved a second chance in his hollow eyes. Death pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed as Hades came flying back in and landed on his shoulder. The large black raven leaned in to his ear and seemed to be whispering, the onyx beak clacking like the teeth of a barren skull. "Yes yes, take care of it. And while you're at it find our other sibling.

Death leaned back in his chair and withdrew another long cigarette, lighting it and taking a long drag. The glowing ember was the only trace of warmth in the room around them. The entire complex was a monstrosity of marble, steel, glass, and stark lighting. Deaths chamber itself was reminiscent of a mausoleum. The Marble floors were carpeted in a deep crimson and the steel walls had dark tapestries lining them. The lights themselves seemed almost scared to shine, casting only the barest of illumination. Only the large window wall at Deaths back offered any respite from the feeling of being trapped in a coffin.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Death AKA: Anthony Scomparsa Character Portrait: Scarlet -War-Blais Character Portrait: Ellie " Solas" Scomparsa Character Portrait: Lucy Paige Character Portrait: Aleksandr "Pestilence" Ivanov
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Sorry boss. Didn't realize you had company. Want me to leave?'Scarlet turned from the chair she was slouching in as a small voice broke her from her boredom. She turned in her chair and smiled to see Solas. As much as she knew this was only a ploy, but it was so amusing to see this child interact with her younger brother. Pretending to be his daughter.
"Actually, I do, but since some of my siblings haven't deigned to make an appearance yet, I see no reason for you to leave.Death said coldly and Scarlet sighed, rolling her eyes. It was then she really missed Lucy, and she suddenly realized she'd been gone much too long. , the small girl was at home, probably finishing up her homework or having finished and drawing or something. Scarlet couldn't be sure but she wasn't worried, Lucy, despite her disability was pretty self-reliant. Scarlet reached in her back pocket, muck smearing the touch screen, she slide the phone unlocked just as her other sibling made his appearance known. She looked up and smiled but it faded almost instantly as he spoke.
“Gods ain't gonna help ya gal, You'll be sorry for whatcha done”
He said and Scarlet cocked her head.

“They ain't gonna catch you when you fall, You'll be pleadin' while you're bleedin'” He said and he eyed Solas like dinner. She arched an eyebrow.

“Gathered again at last… ah, waiting on Famine as usual I see. How times have not changed. Still keeping your mongrel around I see.” He said and she frowned hard. Granted the daemon wasn't someone she wanted around, especially not Lucy, but the creature had it's place and it wasn't like she was hurting anyone and she was sancution which for War's line of work that was a nice change of pace. She actually ask to be here, she didn't just break through an illegal barrier and in doing so opening the door to others like her. She had permission, so why did she get all this hate. That wasn't fair.

Scarlet opened her mouth to speak again but then Death spoke
 "Of course I keep the mongrel around, she is, after all, our sibling."
Scarlet opening her mouth to reprimand them for the shade they were throwing at the girl until it hit her and she stammered and huffed. " Wha- uh- Hey-! Rude!" She folded her arms and pouted. It wasn't like it was unwarranted, she makes jabs at him all the time but still. She wasn't as perturbed as her face betrayed. "And you're right, times have not changed. You still persist to insist on speaking in gibberish,"  He said and Scarlet rolled her eyes, and proceeded to send a quick text to Lucy.

[Hey Kiddo, You up?]

She looked up as Death went on, she wasn't listening really until she saw the starving children. Her heart broke for them. It wasn't like War to be so sympathetic but Lucy had been changing her that way. Before she had time to think on it long and why they were even there, her phone chimed. The phone was the only modern looking thing in the room, and besides Death's cigar and it's glowing embers. She looked down and smiled.

[I'm awake, I finished my homework, Drawing and watching Henry Danger]

Scarlet smiled.
[Alright Kiddo,]

[When are you coming home?]

Scarlet's smile faded. She had no idea, and she really wanted to see her. The thing was, that wasn't just a simple question. Lucy knew more about things then her siblings would have liked, that's why they didn't know. Lucy knew what she was, she was a smart kid and a little too nosy . She'd overheard her and Death over the phone and that ended in questions and questions and to the point she couldn't lie to her. So she told her, she told her everything. She knew what she did, what she was, but Lucy wasn't afraid, she was a little sad, thinking that the only reason Scarlet fostered her was to hide but that wasn't it. She told her that honestly she fostered her because she cared for the girl and she was nice to her. Afterwards, Lucy was excited and she even hugged her. She told her she'd keep her secret and ever since then she'd been worried every time she went to 'work'.

[Don't know yet, Siblings are being them]

[LOL Okay,]

[Did you eat?]

[Not yet]

[Order something from Chin's, Whatever you want]

[I wanna wait for you]

[Aw, I don't know when I'll be in, Don't you have school tomorrow]

[No, it's Friday]

Scarlet sighed. Being a parent was something she'd only tried this century, every other time she'd been someone's lover or something with a lot less work, and a lot less rewarding.

"Ugh, guys, I really gotta get home, where the hell is Famine." Her usual playful tone was gone and she was all business but quickly changed her tone back to normal. " Unlike you, Little Brother, I really do have a daughter at home."

[Scarlet?] Scarlet looked down at her phone.

[I'm here, Kiddo]

[I'm scared]

Fear shot through her.
[Why?]

[There's someone at the door, they're trying to get in, you told me not to open the door but not they aren't stopping, they'll still trying to get in. I'm really scared, they banging it getting louder]

Scarlet got to her feet, upsetting the chair, not caring for Death's reaction to the motion if he had one.

[I'm on my way]

"Death, someone is about to die." all amusement left her voice, malice and violence replaced it. Yellow eyes ablaze. Looking at her brother. "Someone is breaking into my house with Lucy inside. Come on " That was all she had before she dashed off in a literal fiery blaze, sitting Death's once again pristine carpet black and burned.

Once downstairs and on the street she hoped into her Mustang, it was a obnoxiously candy red, and it was fast, hellishly. Much like with her exit from the office, she sped down the street, literally burning rubber.